


The Blast of War

by ParadoxR



Series: Unto the Breach, Dear Friends [9]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Battle, Gen, Leadership, Military, Team, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxR/pseuds/ParadoxR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stand-alone: Sam keeps the heat out of her voice, sparing a second to make much-needed eye contact with the young lieutenant. His whole team is scrambling. The Goa’uld who are left are small, but damn smart survivors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As Doth a Gallèd Rock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my nominator](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+nominator), [steadfast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steadfast/gifts), [cyced](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyced/gifts).



...As fearfully as doth a gallèd rock, o'erhang and jutty his confounded base, swilled with the wild and wasteful ocean. - _Henry V_

This scene is designed to be confusing and the jargon intricate. Such is the nature of war. Most of the jargon doesn't really matter except in illustrating that the characters know it so well. Hopefully it's not too confusing if you can buy that? Gifted to my early commenters and whoever nominated "Else Close the Wall Up" (series part 3) for the SJ Multimedia Awards. Thank you, truly, folks.

* * *

It feels liike half the bay is on their feet before the klaxons even sound.

They fall in step without slowing a beat, each one feeling it in their bones and each other’s even before the alarm changes: Hot Rescue!

But Daniel always hears the sirens actually screaming “Help!”

 

The Control Room’s alive as Sam jumps the last step 15 seconds later, and she and Sharma have already absorbed the surveillance playback as Landry’s “Status!” erupts through the whir of the dial-back.

“8 Gliders, 30 Heads in view! Murph at Harrier, down at half-klick! Mills-Spriggs at Gate – position compromised!” The Officer of the Deck sounds off. “Recovery AO is Black-3, 2nd Ridge!” That Area of Ops is too far from the Gate.

“Sir, SGs 1 and 33 request” —“Chevron 7 Locked!”— “CSAR clearance!” Carter’s Combat Search and Rescue call is by rote as she recalls their 1C to the planet and leads the route-planning gesticulations with Sharm and Teal’c. Teal’c gestures separately; she nods. _Roger:_  “Jammer 7, Mark!”

“—Say again, compromised DHD!” Mills’s voice cuts through the CR and more than a few hearts. _Shit._ “Pulling from Gate to Zone Blue-6!”— The other SG COs flip on their CAPCOM headsets, direct-lining to their OW counterparts.

Stevens confirms, “Jammer 7, Live!” — “9th Target Locked!” Sharma cringes; they need twelve and they need them _now_.

Teal’c tracks the effects of Jammer 7: Heads had immediately started feigning it when the Gate connected, but were certainly after something at Green-1. —“Harrier, OpAmb!” Griff asks through his CAPCOM.— The Jaffa’d had good comm to the Gliders with eyes on the Gate.

Sam recalls the energy signature buried in Green-1 and runs through the exfil benefits for blowing up whatever it is.

…Landry had taken the extra second to process unhappily. He hates making the call when he should still be chiefly observing live ops, but his commander voice won’t let them. “SG-33, you have a go!”

—Murph answers for Harrier, never a good sign. “Harri’s out! He’s burned bad!” But he’s felt more than heard, the fear in the young scientist’s voice clearer than his words.—

Sam pivots from the monitors immediately to her new CO “Sir?! They need us!” She’s already back at the Conn as Sharm concurs. The Control Room crews make CAPCOMing as seamless as possible for SG COs, but what Mills needs is live backup that knows his Area of Operations.

“I won’t risk both of you now.” _She’s not ready._ —“Target 10 Locked!”—

 _Then he’ll risk all of us later._ Sam doesn’t stop to acknowledge Landry, following Sharm down the GR pole.

“Ridge 2-3: MickLick at 4, it’ll collapse on Black and clear your Red tree-line route. It’s more blind than it looks coming down.”

“Stop her!” _What the hell are you doing, Colonel?!_ … _Damn you, Jack!_ None of the Gate Room SFs flinch. —“Target 11 Locked!”—

…Daniel draws Teal’c _(Jammer 7?)_ , who meets his eyes without looking and directs him to Green-1. _Gāi Sǐ._ Daniel curses as studies the Heads. _They want it bad._ Teal’c concurs. This story did not have a happy ending.

Bello’s signaling Griff, who’s on the GR loudspeaker in a second: “We can’t wait!” —“Target 6 Missing!”— All 4 SG COs curse inwardly. Sharm’s eyes meet Sam’s, pulling each other from Truong’s combat engineering and from Kelo’s backup plans. _Cover us, Sam._

“Confirm Launch!” Sharm barks to the CR.

Griff doesn’t need to glance at Bello to know he wants Launch. “Fire All!”

Sam’s at the base-wide intercom before the first volley fires. “CARTER—All Call! All Call! No Holds!” She can feel the lights dim levels above her as all power reroutes to Gate Ops, —“Target Status!”— and Al’s signed her into CAPCOM before the rockets covering 33’s six hit their targets.

“—Repeat, I Say Again, Repeat Volley 1!” Mills sounds like crap.

“Fire Volley 1!” from Reynolds. Siler’s crew almost has the reload, and the four missiles are in the wind in under 5 seconds. —“Cancelling Stick 2! Target 2 Lost!”— “Bandit Stingers at 100%!” — 2 skids to ground, tumbling back down a ridge. 3 hits an Stinger air-mine as the as the Jaffa out-modulate Jammer 2.

 “3 Gliders, 20 Heads!” Bello’s glued to his pilots, all twelve of them barely managing to keep their unmanned drones in the air at the counter-offensive. “Ghost 7 Down!” Pilot 7 curses into the chaos of the CR.

“Bandit Stingers, 88%!”

 _What they hell’s with the firepower?_ “Get it _down_ , _now!_ ” Reynolds barks the priority. “Daniel!”

Daniel’s been waiting to answer the unspoken question. “Minor scavenger, Tollan tech. Mind-Probes Prisoners. They need Green-1; need us stalled to get it.” And they might just get what they wish for.

“Goals painted!”

“Fire at will!” Griff glances at the paint screen, they might just get air superiority yet. The Arrows shoot through the horizon from where they’re mounted on the Gate.

“Jammer 9, Mark!” Sam forces her eyes to move past Screen 3 without waiting —“Dogfight Bandit 1!”— for confirmation. Where the Hell had that been? _The air’s wrong._

“Jammer 9, Live!” —“Sharm, Left Detour!”— His teams has bare seconds to sprint as a Glider annihilates the tree-line, true to Bello’s word.

“Rallied Harri-Murph! Rigging 2-3!”

Sam’s calls Lindsey over to Monitor 10 without slowing her gisting; Daniel’s at her side without such a signal. He doesn’t try to read the radiation data, but Sam’s hand sweeps out as she steps back between Griff and Reynolds. _What’d make the air weird?_

— “Need new Ghost!” — “Launch Ready!” — “Deploy!” — “Ghost’s Up!” — “Charlie Mike!” Continue Mission, Griff echoes. But: _Jammer Niner, Sam?_

“CSAR secure, falling to Zone Green!”  _Thank God, Sharma._

— “New Ghost’s hit!”  _Goddamn bottlenecks._  After the first volleys, barely anything larger than an Arrow clears Blue.—

“As you were! No Cover Zone Green!” Mills calls him off.

“Falling to Zone Red!” —“Kelso, roll off!”— Sharm’s weapons sergeant dives just as a Head’s staff blast takes out his Minigun instead of his own skull. He almost spares a glance for his guardian Ghost as he rolls behind another rock.

Daniel’s conversation to Sam's peripheral vision continues in those seconds.  _They think they figured it out. The biowarfare counter._ The sky fall.

 “Losing Ground! Breaking to Green-3!” Reynolds tracks Mills and Spriggs to their non-existent Green cover before the viewing Ghost gets clipped. Alien-inspired or not, the UAVs still weren’t what they needed to be. _Damnit, Mills, we need that Dial._

Siler’s stance finally signals a lull in his and Captain Qin’s action as their six teams reload Arrows, Sticks, and Ghosts, maintain Jammers, and control power and bandwidth resources. Sam's eyes fix on the Gate feed just long enough: “Clips at 2, 3 and 4! Deck on Zed! Clips, MARK!” Sly’s Bravo Team clips the 3 manual dial devices onto their Gate and rolls them through.

“We’re gonna need a way to get the Hell off this Island!” Mills barks.

—“FLASH: Masks on! Injection Romeo!” Carter’s voice hasn’t cut onto the net in 3 mikes. The reaction is immediate.—

“Mills, right flank!”

Mills pivots and engages on Reynolds’s call, still alone in Blue with Spriggs. “Position Compromised!” They brownout in the ensuing eruption.

“Get me eyes on him  _right now!_ ” Reynolds barks. Bello instructs his pilots without turning.

“ETA to Stingers down?” Sam keeps the heat out of her voice, sparing a second to make much-needed eye contact with the young lieutenant. His whole team is scrambling. The Goa’uld who are left are small, but technical scavengers and damn smart survivors.

“Deck ready!” Sgt. Higgs looks up from the mobile shield, configured for Chevron Zed in this exfil. —“Five minutes, Ma’am!” Two minutes too long. — “Reroute Ghost 2 to Zone Blue, on Friendly!”—

—“33 Masked & Romeo!”—

“Mills, come in, Mills!” —“Bunked down in Zone Red!” _Thank God, Sharma._ — “Mills, Fall to Red!”

No answer.

“Mills, Fall to Red!!” Reynolds reigns himself in.


	2. Like a Brass Canon

“I’ve got eyes!” Three SG CO heads pivot to Bello’s monitor. _Oh Shit._

“Mills-Spriggs, Report!” But all six eyes are already back to scanning, and Reynolds’s tilt is on Carter. _Get them out of there, Sam._

“Sir, Sir, it’s Spriggs, I—” His scream shocks the MALP monitor and the net. They’d made a run for the DHD. “He’s dead! Get us out of here!!” Mills wasn’t the kind to die in Red that far from the Gate.

“Spriggs, Confirm Safe Dial.” Sam quashes her adrenalin spike; her voice is steel calm.

—“Sharm, stay put!”—

“Give me View 7.” Sam walks up behind the MALP operator and points her around the screen. They’re surrounded, collapsed in a blast hole. Mills's out. _(Dead?)_ Masks knocked are off. Packs are smoldering. _You should’ve been with them._

—“Ghost 3 Dry!”, “Launch Ready!”, “Deploy!”—

“Ma’am, I—they hit it. It’s out. He pushed me out…” —“No Joy!”— Shock sets in on the young civilian’s face as Sam inventories through the MALP. —“Ghost’s Cleared!” _One good luck._ —

“Break to Green-6!” _Not good luck_.

Teal’c does not serve as a CAPCOM to off-world teams. —Sam glances at Davis’s jury-rigged Romeo clock: 40 seconds to DOA.— Principally, like DanielJackson, he watches ColonelCarter to preempt her needs in that. It is no longer quite a monthly requirement, but rarity can never serve as an excuse for failure.

“We can’t get in! We’ve gotta go out!” Sharm refuses to panic. Griff knows he’s right, but where the Hell could ‘out’ be?

An Arrow clips another Head sniper post and Kelso traces automatically, finishing him off. —“No out! Green-6!” Sharm’s roger is muffled by fire even over the advanced net.—

“Spriggs. Mills’s pack is at you 4 o’clock right outside your foxhole. You’re getting it on my Mark.”

“4…4 o’clock” he stutters. _Hold on, son._ _You’re all we’ve got._

…Teal’c approaches Davis. —“MARK!” Sam’s eyes surround him beforehand, but she can barely spare periphery afterwards.— “Execute Delay Check Bravo.” The First Shirt doesn’t glance at the Jaffa as his right left skids on a panel, starting another counter. Glances were gold in an active Control Room.

Sam’s on all 8 monitors and 6 scrolling feeds at once: Birds everywhere, no exfil routes. —“Repairing Jammer 4!”— No Gate power. _Power._

“ETA 2 minutes to Green-6.” Reynolds’s answer doesn’t need her question _(she’s got it)_ as she signals to Griff: _Cover him, this is it._

“View 8.” Sam’s voice cuts to the View Conn as her eyes drop quickly to the GR. —“FLASH Reroute: All Arrows for Blue Friendly! Ghosts 2 and 3!” Confirmations roger back to Griff immediately.—

“Put a Web on a Deck! Dunk Web in LiqMeq and two C4 bricks on joints 2 and 3.” …Sly learned long ago not to wonder what went on inside his Colonel’s head.

…Ferretti’s the big picture guy in here: Sharm’s on point, Keslo’s got Murph, Truong’s on their six, Neil’s lugging Harri. Mills’s down (unknown), —“Ghost to Cone 4!” Farris translates Sam’s call and Bello taps Ghost 6.— Spriggs’s barely holding on.

“Neil’s Hit!” 

Griff and Lou’s eyes follow Bello’s arm to Neil, meeting on the way. “REPORT: OpAmb!” —“Web-Deck, Wilco!”—

“Op, Low Amb!” Neil answers him, trying not to scream. ‘Hit’ on a Hot Rescue means there’s bone showing, not blood—and they can hear the bone.

Big picture guys don’t get easy decisions.

Sam snags Hamda’s arm, letting Teal’c tap a spot in Gate-4 via View 8. —“Deck ETA 90 seconds!” And no one’s needed to tell Siler they need it yesterday since 1998.—  Hamda’s done the math in half-seconds: “Kill a DeltaArrow, heavy 2, depth 7-aught-5. Hit to Gate-4!”

“Spriggs. We’re going to cover Sharm.” The doctor tries to scrub the blood from his eyepiece, raising a P90 for Sam. — “Dagger ETA 20 seconds!”—

“No. TinFin the foxhole in Gate-4 on my Mark, Spriggs.” Sam cuts to Qin: “Pre-program Clips; electrically isolate the ZedDeck!”

“…I…Ma’am—” The Gate actually rocks at that impact. “I—” The too-young scientist fumbles with his kit. She thinks he might be missing a finger.

—“Ma’am, Bandit stingers crashing! ETA 2 minutes!”

 _Two minutes? _Carters don’t curse. They math. “ETA to Bandit 60%?”

Hu doesn’t question how that’s possibly useful: “50 seconds!” But air-mined missiles do no one any favors. If they did, _she’d_ be off-world trying to save them. Hu’s heart twinges for Jesse Spriggs.—

“Delta Arrow, Ready!” “FLASH: Launch Dagger to Gate-4!” —“Red-2 detouring to Green-6!”—

“Negative! Red-3 detour!”

“Wilco, Red-3!” _  
_

…Daniel studies the GR. He doesn’t know the details, but pre-programming Clips wasn’t SOP yet. _She’s on a limb. We should’ve been there._ …The entire floor is 20 different streams of every kind of operator; Reber and Dev stand the defensive line for the incoming Worm as Qin’s crews —“At Green-6! No exfil!” Sharm’s _‘CARTER!’_ plea doesn’t need voicing.— rig the metallic WebDeck, covering the other with an electrically-insulated crash bag.

“Follow my voice.” Spriggs pulls himself up at his CO’s unearthly calm, barely registering the Arrow that buzzes inches above his mask to clip another Head. —“CRASH, COVER: Ghost 6!”— They’d all be dead without them. “TinFin Gate-4 Foxhole, Mark.” Spriggs is buried in Sam’s voice but sets the line with reflexive precision. It might be two fingers missing.

“Sharm, Status! Inbound Count!” Griff watches Ghost 6 crash three feet from Sharm’s boys.

“WAIT ONE!”  _Little busy here, Griff!_ _  
_

“Iso Bottleneck!” Siler’s at the foot of the problem in seconds as the team struggles to deflate the crash bag onto the Deck. The nearest .50 cal gunner calmly re-sights after Sly sinks 7 rounds into it. No one down there cares that they’ve never done this. They’ve never thought it. —“9 Inbounds!”— That they hadn’t gone this hot in months. Go big and get home. Go big or die alone.

Sam’s eyes briefly bury themselves in the DHD. “Now reroute the Sigma line from Nobel 12 to 3-o’clock Red.” —“Truong’s down!” Sam's busy, so Jack’s thoughts curse for her.—

“n-nobel 12…?” Sam’s eyes ping back into the DHD Screen, subconsciously logging another ‘thank you’ for Raja’s seamless tracking. The incessant brownouts and jams on cameras aren’t things CAPCOMS can think about.

“The blue crystal on the outer ring at your 6-o’clock.” She supplies, smoothing the young doctor.No one needs to here ‘hurry!’ OW.

“DeckZed to Deck-Up-Zed! WebDeck ETA?!”

Higgs registers Carter’s bark immediately. His orders cut through the GR directly to their targets as Sam is back to Spriggs.

—“Web-Deck 20 seconds!” ‘Ma’am’s’ don’t exist in Hot GRs.—

“You need to dive to Gate-1, Spriggs. Trench and tele-blast it on my mark.”

Daniel nods from the stairwell. —“Clips Programmed!”— “Prep a Blue crash bag.” Luson flows the diplomat’s call into the GR traffic pattern without questioning.

“Deck-Up-Iso-Zed, Ready!” —“I’ll trench and tele-blast Gate-1 on Carter’s Mark.” _Yeah_ , _son._  But he doesn’t sound any better.—

“How long can you hold him?” Sam’s behind Ghost 3’s pilot as Bello immediately shifts to his others. —“Deck-Web-Liq-Brick, Ready!”—

“60 seconds!” Reyna answers, bounce-tapping her ghost like a mosquito around the dragon of a Glider in Green-2.

Teal’c’s at the detonation panel without awaiting a cue. It matters not that they left any pre-considered option behind almost 4 minutes ago; in 100 years of war nothing had ever been the same twice anyway.

“WebDeck, Mark!” Sam uncovers her mic, “Spriggs, MARK!”

The ground beneath the OW Gate explodes, rocking it as the LiqMeq Deck flips backwards over Chevron 7, toppling the Gate over backwards.

Sam sketches a quick arc on View 3 for Teal’c, eyes back on View 4 immediately.

“GHOSTS: Break Contact! 6 Cherubs!” Reyna’s eyes question Carter’s back, but every ghost noses up to 600 feet. “I can hold—” “Bugout!” Bello echoes at her for good measure, not knowing why.

Teal’c’s eyes are on the screens and the Delay Clock but his mind is in the cockpits. 3 Gilders, 2 danger close. —“FLASH: Pop Smoke! Clips auto-dialing. CALLING BACK IN 2 MIKES.” Sam’s spitting into Al’s headset, but Spriggs and Sharm barely hear her.— Teal’c detonates as the third Glider crosses into the arc, not caring that the details escape him.

“Hit the sky!” Every ghost auto-noses up at Sam’s order. “DeckZed, MARK!”

 

Griff’s eyes widen after Sam’s orders as lightening shoots _up_ through the air, skittering along the exploding Web. The Gate is _crackling._ “HANG UP!” Davis’s response to her is automatic, and the GR is suddenly darker. A stray Arrow collides with the rear wall.

Reload crews scramble as med teams prep and everyone else prays. _Dial back._

54 seconds.

46 seconds.

Thirty—“Incoming wormhole!” Beat. “…No—Sharma’s IDC!”

“Open, Crash Blue,” _Thanks, Daniel_ “Det Gate-4, Flip Decks!”

—“Ghosts online!”— Dust showers everything in the GR as the ensuing Gate-4 explosion kicks 6 bodies onto the crash bag. Kelso’s rolling forward and on his radio in seconds, left arm limp. “SHARM! TRU!”

The monitors are split-screened with playback and livestream as everyone tries to recap.

“BUNKER-Up-2!”

Sly’s team kicks a box from its electromagnet to OW Chevron 2 in 4 seconds; no one cares who said it.

Reynolds sees them now, breaking from Gate-6 to dive below the steel box. Truong’s half-carrying Sharm. —“2 Gliders alive!” as the last of the lightening sheet wears off.—

Med coats in blast-vests swarm the reloading GR. The defensive line swallows the stretchers protectively as they rush out.

_Come on, Tru. Come home._

Sharm’s voice is in the GR almost before his body is. “FULL EXFIL!” Ghosts trap in behind them as their bunker hits its electromagnet. Both men are in stretchers before “Confirmed, Full Exfil!” “CLOSE IT!” —“TAL’LAK!”—

 

Nothing tells you more about a person than a Goa’uld grenade in a crowded room.

Unfortunately, it’s often the last thing you learn about the best.


	3. Bend Up Every Spirit

Reber doesn’t think. That was always his problem, he guesses, as he lands hard on Kelo’s back, nailing him to the crash bag. Meese, at his .50 cal, doesn’t much either as he deflates the Gate side. —“BUST-STUCK! Bandit jammed!”— It wouldn’t be enough.

But Siler thinks. He gets it from Carter, he figures, cutting all aux GR power with the closest switch that’d do the job. Every electro-mag fails, Bunkers crashing to the ground. —“CLOSE THE DAMN IRIS!”— —“Flip the Gate!”— …Davis flips for Carter, unable to obey his general. — One breaks two nurses’ legs. Another crushes one’s chest. The third swallows the ‘Lak as the lowest few fragments embed into SFs’ vests. And arms. And faces.

Bello chokes back his shakiness. “Ghosts Home!” He blinks at the catch net on the rear wall. They still need them. Up ghosts meant more money for everything else, and you —“Incoming Bogey!”—never knew what the next now would bring.

“Seal it!” The shield drops from the high ceiling as SFs pull their wingmen from the drop zone. The mangled hull of a Glider skids into the now-sealed back chamber. _You jammed my Gate to do that? _—“CLEAR!” “Hanging it up!” Davis doesn’t imagine waiting for the say-again order.—

The GR’s darker once more, but the blood is far too vibrant.

“Dial Back!” Davis complies when the Glider’s free of the splash, but Sam feels her order reverberate. _What now?_

“Colonel?”

“General, we have to.” But Sam’s eyes are on Teal’c. His concur.

“To…”

“They wanted something, Sir. Badly. They can’t have it.”

Reynolds grimaces. “Symbiote poison.”

“Indeed.” Teal’c’s next trip to Dakara would be hell to pay.

Landry blinks. Condoning genocide in the first week. Damn. “Your order, Colonel.” Sam nods, unflinching. She’d face the demons later.

“Snake 14, all Target. 3 Ghosts to Green 1.”

“Confirm, Snake 14, all Target.”

Reynolds coughs during Lou’s echo, ready for his own. “Confirm, Snake 14, all Target.” He can feel the dust in his lungs all the way in the CR.

“Snake 14, Wilco.”

“Snake 14, Mark.”

Sam glances six degrees to her left, but Teal’c and Daniel —“Snake 14, Up.”— know where she’s directing. —“Ghosts, Up.”—

“Aray Kree.”

The bloodied pilots squint at the sound of the First Shol’va from their decimated cockpit. “Cha’hari. Kel’cha.” The first-seat replies breathlessly. “Noc’ri’ton.”

“Noc.” Daniel would’ve smiled at his friend’s simplicity in most circumstances. _No, we’re not going to get you out of there._ They’re lucky they’re not dead yet, with a bust stunt like that.

“Shel kek nem ron.” Teal’c’s eyebrow climbs. —Both remaining Gliders auger into Ridge 2 almost simultaneously.— “Tal mal’tiak mal we’ia Una Shol’va.”

Sam’s head flips back to his at the Jaffa’s unspoken request. “Your call, Teal’c.” As if anyone is more qualified to judge a real defector from a fake.

— “All targets, confirmed down.” The Heads would be dead in minutes.—

“This is a volunteer mission, folks.” Reynolds starts.

Dixon nods up at him for his men as Mal’s med team zips down the pole and splits anti-pens between them.

“General?”

“Go.” _What the hell did you get me into, Jack?_

“General Landry, I would take these men to Rin’tak.”

“ _Now?_ ”

“They will die.”

Reyna relays something to Bello. “Bird 2 didn’t direct engage after Jammer 9, Sir.” Teal’c nods. He had found it odd. He no longer did. “But they made a heck of a dogfight.”

“With unmanned craft only.” Daniel clarifies of the Ghosts.

“And shot down one that almost killed Keslo in the crash.”

“Not to mention the grenade that stunt let through.”

“They should go, Sir.” Sam meets Landry’s eyes. _How do you intend to deal with each other, Sir?_

Hank clinches. And nods.

“Dixon, we’ll be back in 4 mikes. Hit Alpha if things fall apart.” As if Dave needs that clarification.

“Wilco, Reynolds. Confirming hang up.”

“SGC out.”

Ferguson, relieving Davis to his First Shirt duties, flips the Gate back over for Teal’c and Daniel in the chamber. It looks almost beautiful as she dials out while rotating the entire ring to Chevron 7 top. Beautiful, if only it weren’t so stained. Blood and burnt flesh. She blinks back the grenade. It hadn’t been breathtaking since her first funeral.

“Chevron 7 Locked.”

“Stay safe, boys.” Sam sends off the two ragged, two too-clean forms. Too much blood. _We should have been there._

Griff’s back on the line with Dixon in less than 3 mikes. They’re huffing from the sprints, but finish injecting and de-snaking the 16 remaining Heads in another 2. “Both Gliders DOA.”

Sam grimaces as she scans the faces in the CR and GR. _Another war._ And still they struggle with saving their enemies from this one.

“We’re headed to Rin’tak.”

“Teal’c and Daniel just brought two bogeys there.” Reynolds supplies with less energy than he should be able to muster.

Dixon nods characteristically through the radio. “Roger. Back home in 20. Confirming hang up.”

Ferguson cuts off after Reynolds’s confirm, settling in for a long shift. Sam eyes her closely. Hard as a coffin nail and nice as apple pie, but the shift after the storm was often worse on the psyche than the one during it.

The SG COs share a vibe, studying the GR. “Color Out.” Reynolds command is clear, but he waits patiently.

“Orange, Recover—Sir.” Qin answers when he can. The infirmary’s the AO now, but the new GR shift is about 2 mikes from full readiness. Most had Ferg’s same look. Sly taps a young soldier on the back, relieving him. He wouldn’t make this shift.

“Carry On.” The now-orange officers distribute around the Quarterdeck, searching far too many eyes for signs of shock or overwhelm. More backs tapped. Most of them leave to fill the infirmary waiting room. A few haven’t thought to scrub their brothers’ blood from their faces, but the arms that pull around their shoulders don’t mind.

* * *

Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit to his full height.  _-Henry V_

I hope that was as confusing as intended and not more so. :( Thoughts?

 


End file.
